The dream shattered in an instant. He Zheng jolted awake, his hair damp and sticking to his neck. He felt as if he’d just been pulled out of water—his palms and back slick with cold sweat.
Beside him, the phone was still ringing. Li Ru’s calls came one after another. He Zheng wiped the sweat from his forehead and wearily pushed himself up from the bed.
He didn’t know why he’d dreamed of Xiao Wei. He just knew that right now, he didn’t want to answer the phone. His mind was blank, yet somewhere deep down, he resisted hearing Li Ru’s speculations about “Top Supporter” again.
But Li Ru didn’t give up.
After a long while, He Zheng finally picked up. His voice was tired. “Hello.”
“Your number one supporter’s got some background,” Li Ru said teasingly. “I checked the IP address of his streaming account. Guess where it’s from?”
He Zheng rubbed his temples. “Where?”
“Mexico.”
He Zheng froze.
“The time difference between Mexico and here isn’t small,” Li Ru continued. “You start your stream around six in the evening, right? That means over there—it’s about four in the morning.”
“…”
“Getting up at four in the morning just to watch you chat nonsense on stream? He’s definitely into you.”
Li Ru’s tone turned more certain. “He’s trying to be your sugar daddy, isn’t he?”
“…I don’t know,” He Zheng muttered, lips pressed tight.
“Well, I can’t tell if he’s serious about you or just playing around, but listen—if you still want to make it in showbiz, you’d better keep yourself clean while you’re still a nobody. If anyone ever digs up dirt about you being ‘kept,’ your acting career’s over.”
“You’re overthinking it,” He Zheng said with a small laugh. “I’m so irrelevant—who’d bother digging up gossip on me?”
“Still,” Li Ru said firmly, “you can’t see a person’s true heart through a screen. Don’t get fooled.”
“…”
After the call ended, He Zheng actually felt a little calmer. He’d half-listened to what Li Ru said—his thoughts had stopped right after she mentioned ‘He’s watching your stream at four in the morning.’
He glanced at his phone. It was 5:40. Twenty minutes before his stream started.
In Mexico… the sky probably hadn’t even brightened yet.
His fingers slid idly across the screen. Somehow, he ended up opening “Top Supporter’s” WeChat Moments. As always, it was just a blank line—he was still blocked.
Forget it. Doesn’t matter.
He Zheng got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, he peeled off the bandage from his face. The wound had mostly healed—looked like it wouldn’t leave a scar.
He put on a fresh bandage, roughly combed his hair, didn’t bother changing clothes, and casually started his livestream.
The viewer from Mexico was, once again, the first to join.
Thinking of their argument the night before, He Zheng didn’t quite know what to say.
But “Top Supporter” immediately sent a message: [What happened to your face?]
He Zheng touched the bandage, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing.”
Top Supporter repeated: [What happened to your face?]
“I fell,” He Zheng lied casually. “Fell on the ground.”
Top Supporter ignored the lie, his tone heavier: [I asked what happened to your face.]
Even through the screen, He Zheng could feel the pressure.
“I went to a shoot today. Had a small… disagreement,” He Zheng said vaguely. “It’s fine. Just a small injury. Doesn’t hurt much.”
As soon as he mentioned “shoot,” one of the viewers commented: [Didn’t you act in that one drama? I thought you looked familiar.]
He Zheng lowered his gaze. “Mm.” He was used to people recognizing his face but not remembering any of his roles.
Top Supporter kept pressing: [What kind of disagreement gets you hurt?]
He Zheng’s head throbbed. He just wanted to brush the incident off, but Top Supporter clearly wasn’t letting it go. His tone grew more urgent.
[Did someone bully you?]
[Did they?]
“Yeah,” He Zheng said helplessly. “The guy acting opposite me hit me during a slap scene and caught my face. My tone wasn’t great either, so it almost turned into a fight.”
Though he’d tried to downplay it, the meaning was clear enough. Top Supporter didn’t reply for a while—probably piecing everything together. Finally, he sent:
[Can you not take roles like that again?]
“Extras don’t get to pick roles,” He Zheng replied.
Top Supporter shot back instantly: [You can pick.]
“Who’s gonna let me pick?” He Zheng joked lightly. “You?”
Top Supporter: [Me.]
That short, firm word made He Zheng drop the teasing look on his face.
Top Supporter continued seriously: [If you’re willing, I want to work with you.]
[If there’s a role you want to try in the future, tell me.]
[Whichever project you want to be in, I’ll try to invest in it.]
The words were polite and restrained, but the sheer confidence behind them burned through the screen. The other viewers flooded the chat with teasing “ooohs.”
He Zheng’s expression didn’t change. He leaned back, hands behind his head, Li Ru’s earlier warning flashing through his mind. Then he lifted a brow and asked, unable to suppress his curiosity, “What’s in it for you?”
“For doing all this for me—what do you want?”
One viewer chimed in mischievously: [He wants to sleep with you.]
A moment later, that user was kicked out of the room.
He Zheng chuckled. “What, kicking people now? Don’t tell me you’re doing all this out of pure kindness, just because you pity a washed-up extra like me—I wouldn’t believe it.”
Top Supporter: [No.]
He paused, as if there was something he couldn’t say, and after a few seconds stammered, [I’ll tell you on WeChat after the stream.]
The chat immediately erupted in teasing comments: [Ohhh, talk on WeChat? So you’ve exchanged contact info already?]
“Yeah,” He Zheng admitted honestly. “We’ve added each other.”
Chat: [So you’ve already met and slept together?]
“No.”
Chat: [But soon, right?]
That person was kicked out immediately.
He Zheng sighed twice, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Alright, stop it. If you keep kicking people, no one will be left.”
Top Supporter reluctantly stopped, his typed words carrying a faint sulky tone: [Got it.]
Just as he sent that, the person who’d been kicked out came storming back in, furious: Why did Rank #1 kick me out?
Top Supporter was waiting for him to walk straight into it: Because you can’t keep your mouth shut.
Chat: [You fing…@#….*]
The message got censored for too much profanity. When he realized his insults weren’t going through, the guy got clever and switched tactics:
[So what, you think having money to send gifts makes you special?]
[The streamer only sees you as an ATM.]
[You really think you matter, you pathetic simp.]
Almost instantly, Top Supporter replied: [Yeah, I’m simping.]
Chat: [?]
Chat: [You’re actually proud of that?!]
Top Supporter: [Yup.]
Top Supporter: [You got a problem with that?]
Before the other could respond, Top Supporter muted him, silencing his mouthy barrage, and calmly repeated in those bold, striking red letters: [You got a problem with that?]
He Zheng hadn’t expected him to act like such a petty schoolboy. He wanted to laugh, turned his head, coughed lightly, and forced it down.
With the troublemakers all kicked out, the stream atmosphere returned to normal. Top Supporter picked the earlier topic back up and reminded He Zheng: [I meant what I said earlier. If you’re willing, call me after the stream.]
“No need,” He Zheng shook his head. “Thanks, but no.”
He admitted that Top Supporter’s offer had tempted him for a moment. And yes, if he accepted the man’s help, his path in the entertainment industry would become much smoother.
But… it wasn’t necessary.
Top Supporter had already opened enough doors for him financially. Depending on him for career opportunities too—it just didn’t sit right with a grown man like He Zheng.
Maybe sensing that stubborn pride beneath He Zheng’s calm demeanor, Top Supporter didn’t press further after the refusal.
At that moment, the chat began to fill with: [Do a PK match!]
He Zheng glanced down at himself. He wasn’t even wearing one of his nice dresses today, and there was a bandage on his face. His viewer count was pitiful. The odds of winning a PK were slim.
He pretended not to see the messages, but someone quickly sent a gift and repeated: [Do a PK.]
Helpless, He Zheng said nothing and hit the PK connect button.
A match was found almost instantly. On the other half of the screen appeared a female streamer. She wore a low-cut top but had a piece of tissue covering her chest. Her beauty filter had nearly erased her nostrils, and her mic moved in and out of frame as she leaned closer.
“Uh,” she said uncertainly, looking at He Zheng’s long hair, “pretty boy?”
He Zheng gave a nonchalant “Mm,” and greeted, “Hello.”
“Hi,” the girl said, adjusting the tissue on her chest. “So, what’s our PK punishment?”
“Anything. You decide.”
“How about turning off the beauty filter?” she suggested, raising an eyebrow.
He Zheng: “I don’t have it on.”
“Oh,” she said, thinking for a moment, then casually suggested, “Then how about this—whoever loses has to confess to the other person’s top supporter.”
“…”
“What’s wrong?”
Seeing him silent, the girl gave him a look that said we all play like this, and asked, “Too much for you?”
He Zheng neither agreed nor refused—he just gave her a slight nod. “I’ll mute myself.”
She gave him an OK sign and muted her mic as well. Their faces remained side by side on-screen, but no sound came through.
Once the PK began, the girl’s gift count slowly climbed, while He Zheng’s side remained bleak. A few sympathetic viewers sent small gifts, and he read out each of their usernames one by one, thanking them and telling them not to waste their money.
Losing only meant confessing to the other side’s top supporter. Over the internet—nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, he’d kissed extras he’d just met on set before.
But just as he finished saying that, the girl’s gift count suddenly skyrocketed to 100,000. She jumped up in excitement, sending the tissue over her chest fluttering to the floor. The chat instantly exploded with filthy comments.
He Zheng glanced at his own pathetic numbers, thinking the other side’s top supporter was quite the big spender. Then his eyes drifted to his own leaderboard—his Top Supporter’s nickname had turned gray. Logged off.
Gone to dance with laser lights, maybe?
As the seconds ticked by, the PK ended. Looking at the huge gap between their scores, He Zheng admitted defeat.
He ran through a quick confession line in his head, about to speak, when someone in chat wrote: [Your Top Supporter is sending gifts to the other streamer.]
What?
He Zheng didn’t react at first. Then another message popped up: [LMAO he wants to hear you confess to him.]
The female streamer turned her mic back on, trying and failing to hide her grin. Her lips curved up so obviously it was easy to tell—she knew exactly what was going on.
“Sorry, I won,” she said, barely holding back a laugh. “Your Top Supporter just sent me all those gifts. He’s my top supporter now.”
He Zheng: “…”
“You should start preparing your confession,” she teased, hand over her mouth, egging him on.
He Zheng froze in front of the screen, brain completely blank. Every line of that carefully planned confession had flown right out of his head.
The chat kept pushing, the girl smiled brightly, watching him. He Zheng fidgeted, throat tight with embarrassment, and tried to speak—but it was like lead had filled his mouth. No words would come out.
He pressed his lips together and forced himself to speak. “Hello, top supporter across the screen, I…”
“Wait!”
The female streamer suddenly interrupted him. “Hold on a second.”
He Zheng froze, confused.
“The Top Supporter says, if you find it hard to confess, then just answer one question.”
The female streamer stared at the barrage message the Top Supporter sent and smiled meaningfully. “He wants you to open WeChat and look at the messages from the day before yesterday.”
He Zheng responded sluggishly with an “oh,” switched to WeChat chat history, and scrolled up.
The messages from the day before yesterday… were a picture of a white long dress. Below it was the Top Supporter’s unanswered line — Can I buy this for you?
“He wants you to answer him — can he?”
It took He Zheng a while to react. He laughed softly, sighed, his frown relaxing as his lips curved into a gentle smile. He said softly, “Mm.”
“Yes.”